Twenties Girl Read Online Free Page B

full-time mum of twin boys, Lorcan and Declan, and bosses her poor au pairs around instead.
    “How are the boys?” asks Mum, but Tonya doesn’t notice. She’s totally focused on Uncle Bill.
    “Uncle Bill, I read your book! It was amazing! It changed my life. I’ve told
everyone
about it. And the photo is wonderful, although it doesn’t do you justice.”
    “Thanks, sweetheart.” Bill shoots her his standard yes-I-know-I’m-brilliant smile, but she doesn’t seem to notice.
    “Isn’t it a fantastic book?” She appeals around to the rest of us. “Isn’t Uncle Bill a genius? To start with absolutely nothing! Just two coins and a big dream! It’s so inspiring for humanity!”
    She’s such a suck-up, I want to hurl. Mum and Dad obviously feel the same way, as neither of them answers. Uncle Bill isn’t paying her any attention either. Reluctantly, she swivels around on her heel.
    “How are you, Lara? I’ve hardly seen you lately! You’ve been hiding!” Her eyes start focusing in on me with intent as she comes nearer and I shrink away. Uh-oh. I know that look.
    My sister, Tonya, basically has three facial expressions:
    1) Totally blank and bovine.
    2) Loud, showy-offy laughter, as in “Uncle Bill, you kill me!”
    3) Gloating delight masked as sympathy as she picks away at someone else’s misery. She’s addicted to the Real Life channeland books with tragic, scruffy kids on the cover, called things like
Please, Grammy, Don’t Hit Me with the Mangle
.
    “I haven’t seen you since you split up with Josh. What a shame. You two seemed so perfect together!” Tonya tilts her head sorrowfully. “Didn’t they seem perfect together, Mum?”
    “Well, it didn’t work out.” I try to sound matter-of-fact. “So anyway …”
    “What went wrong?” She gives me that doe-eyed, fake-concerned look she gets when something bad happens to another person and she’s really,
really
enjoying it.
    “These things happen.” I shrug.
    “But they don’t, though, do they? There’s always a reason.” Tonya is relentless. “Didn’t he say anything?”
    “Tonya,” Dad puts in gently. “Is this the best time?”
    “Dad, I’m just
supporting
Lara,” Tonya says, in affront. “It’s always best to talk these things through! So, was there someone else?” Her eyes swivel back to me.
    “I don’t think so.”
    “Were you getting on OK?”
    “Yes.”
    “Then why?” She folds her arms, looking baffled and almost accusing. “Why?”
    I don’t know why!
I want to scream.
Don’t you think I’ve asked myself that question a bazillion times?
    “It was just one of those things!” I force a smile. “I’m fine about it. I’ve realized that it wasn’t meant to be, and I’ve moved on and I’m in a good place. I’m really happy.”
    “You don’t look happy.” Diamanté observes from across the aisle. “Does she, Mum?”
    Aunt Trudy surveys me for a few moments.
    “No,” she says at last, in definitive tones. “She doesn’t look happy.”
    “Well, I am!” I can feel tears stinging my eyes. “I’m just hiding it! I’m really, really, really happy!”
    God, I hate all my relatives.
    “Tonya, darling, sit down,” Mum says tactfully. “How did the school visit go?”
    Blinking hard, I get out my phone and pretend to be checking my messages so no one bothers me. Then, before I can stop it, my finger scrolls down to photos.
    Don’t look
, I tell myself firmly.
Do
not
look
.
    But my fingers won’t obey me. It’s an overwhelming compulsion. I have to have one quick look, just to keep me going … my fingers are scrabbling as I summon up my favorite picture. Josh and me. Standing together on a mountain slope, arms around each other, both with ski tans. Josh’s fair hair is curling over the goggles thrust up on his head. He’s smiling at me with that perfect dimple in his cheek, that dimple I used to push my finger into, like a toddler with Play-Doh.
    We first met at a Guy Fawkes party, standing around a